Upsetting the Koels
by MysticalDoughnut
Summary: Original Series Universe. Gordon Tracy is ANGRY - his father has called him from the job he loves, seemingly just to criticise his life decisions. Featuring a special guest appearance by Troy Tempest's lil WASP uniform.


The contrast with the redness of the collar on his WASP outfit and of what Grandma would've called his 'Bieber bangs' was making Gordon's flushed face look like it was about to explode. "Why can't you be happy for _once_ -" he jabbed an accusing finger at his father.

Jeff sighed, his own expression infuriatingly calm. He wore a light grey tuxedo-style jacket over his salmon-coloured turtleneck; because even at this inexplicably remote island Villa in the middle of the Pacific Ocean sitting in his own office with only his son, Colonel Jefferson Tracy just didn't _do_ casual.

Interpreting the sigh as a million unspoken criticisms, Gordon ran his hand through his hair and continued "I knew it! I knew this little – _father-son-whatever-it-was-meant-to-be_ was too good to be true. You've never been happy with my choices! You always thought you knew better than me!" He was pacing now, the silver polyester WASP uniform rubbing uncomfortably.

"And now you want me to quit my job? A job you know I love! Why exactly? To go to college like my brothers did? Admit it, Father! You always had a problem with the fact I didn't want to go! You always had a problem with me not being university material! Even though you yourself went straight into the military after high school, you _hypocrite_."

He had intended the last statement to have more of an effect than it had. Jeff simply blinked slowly and poured himself another glass of scotch. Gordon's own glass sat there untouched in front of the empty seat.

"Sit down, son. I brought you here to talk man to man, not to yell. Look," He gestured to the glass window and its view over the jungle below. "You've upset the koels, they've stopped singing."

Jeff's voice was low and gravelly, as Gordon had always remembered it being. Right now, though, it just seemed patronising and infuriating. He stared at the older man incredulously, " _Upset the koels_? Have you gone _mad_ , Father?"

"Quite possibly," And for the first time in over two decades he could have sworn the corners of his father's mouth twitched. "Sit down, son. Give me a chance to explain myself."

Defeated by his father, by the uncomfortable uniform, and by those goddamn koels, Gordon flopped into the chair opposite the desk. "Go on, then."

Jeff paused before continuing. It was something that had been hard-coded into him during his military days; a Colonel isn't given permission to speak, a Colonel speaks when he is ready to speak.

"I don't have any sort of problem with you being in WASP. It's a great outfit, they only take the best of the best, and I know how hard you worked to get in. I'm proud of you, whether you believe that or not."

Gordon just shrugged.

"I would have _liked_ for you to go to college. I can imagine it's been hard for you – Scott, Virgil and John have all achieved so much already, perhaps that has made you feel like you need to compete. However, the only person you have ever needed to compete with is yourself. Every day you should challenge yourself to be a better man than the one you were the day before, never to out-do your brothers."

Gordon's brow furrowed, "I don't…"

"You misunderstood the competition rules," Jeff interrupted. "You entered yourself into one you couldn't win, and then gave up trying. It's never been _me_ who thought you weren't university material. It was never _me_ who was unhappy with your choices. In fact, I don't recall you asking for my opinion at all. It's been you, all along."

The redness was returning to Gordon's face again. "That's not true-" The protest was hollow though, deep down it was stirring feelings he'd never admitted were even there.

"You want to know why I think you didn't go to college before joining WASP? I think you didn't go because you thought you couldn't. I think you didn't go because you were afraid you wouldn't be able to match the achievements of your brothers who went before you. I think the voice that has been telling you that you're not good enough isn't mine, it's your own."

A silence followed, uncomfortable and hollow.

"You may think I'm old, you may think it's so long since I ever had to make a decision like you did that how could I possibly understand? I do though, son." Another pause, admitting weakness was not something that came as second nature to Jeff Tracy. "I have no older brothers, but I did grow up on a wheat farm in the middle of rural Kansas. I did go along to a college open day and shake hands with the prep school kids and the private school kids, in their fancy new clothes bought just for the occasion while I'd had to borrow an old suit from my father. I felt I couldn't compare to these people, why would I even try? It would only end in humiliation. I signed up for the Air Force the very next day. My Father was upset and furious – why had I given up? We both yelled for a while – I accused him of wanting me to be something I wasn't, wanting me to do something I couldn't. Now, after all that time has passed, after I've said goodbye to him forever, I realise I was just projecting my feelings onto him. In hindsight, there were probably a hundred kids there, just like me. In hindsight I probably would have been fine."

Gordon was staring at his father in disbelief. He'd heard the story a million times before – Jeff had always known he wanted to fly, that he wanted to get inside a cockpit as soon as he was old enough, he had never heard this part before though. He couldn't imagine the strong, confident man sat before him could ever have doubted himself like that.

"We're more similar than you can ever imagine, Gordon. Our fathers became the faces we assigned to those niggling voices in the back of our heads telling us we weren't good enough. Well, I certainly didn't bring you here today to tell you that you weren't good enough. In fact, quite the opposite."

When Gordon didn't reply, Jeff reached into a drawer next to him and took something out. Gordon craned his neck to see what it was. Jeff started to unfold a large diagram – Gordon had seen millions of these before, littering his father's desk. Always a new plane, a new engine, a new rocket. This one though, didn't look anything like those.

As Jeff placed the paper on the desk and delicately pushed it towards his son, Gordon realised that it was actually a plan for some kind of advanced submersible.

"The real reason I called you here, son, was to prove just how much I believe in you."


End file.
